People Like Me
by Iapetus
Summary: Voldemort ruined many people's lives, and Petunia Dursley is no exception. In retaliation, she vowed never to give him what he wanted most.
1. Curiosity

People Like Me

A Harry Potter fan fiction by Iapetus

Disclaimer:  I didn't write HP, hence the reason it is on FF.net.

Thanks to Willowish for being my beta-reader.  You really helped me out!  
  


###############################

            Petunia Dursley was in a foul mood.  Last night had one of the worst rainstorms Privet Drive had seen in years and no one had gotten that much sleep.  The sun never seemed to peek out through the rain clouds anymore, for the weather had been terrible all week.  She could handle hearing the branches of the trees knocking against the outside of the house, but shuttered to think of what the yard would look like**.**

            But she could not stand that owl for one more night.

            Her nephew, whose bedroom door she quickly walked to, was the cause of this.  It was always his fault.  She knocked sharply at his door, but there was no answer.  Frustrated, she knocked again - louder.  Still, no response.

            Abandoning her disgust at she was going to find inside, she pushed open the door, and looked around.  There wasn't much furniture in the room- just a desk, a bed, a bookcase built into the wall, and two bedside tables.  He had pushed the bed against the wall, and put one of the nightstands next to it.  The other stand was in a corner, and had the dratted bird's cage sitting on it.  Looking down at the floor, she saw that he had had to shimmy his nightstand so it wouldn't rattle around.  Petunia was glad enough that the boy had gotten enough sense to be able to fix that problem - because her husband wasn't going to fix it for him.  Yet, it disgusted her how he would care more about the owl than himself.  He had taken the worse nightstand, which looked as though it would give you splinters by touching it.

            _Well, as weird as it is, she thought, __it is a good idea.  If that shimmy fell out, and the bird's cage kept rattling around, the stupid animal would probably screech its lungs out so that everyone could hear.  She had already got many questioning looks from neighbors who had thought that the Dursley's had lost their minds.  They could have sworn seeing several owls - not just the white one her nephew called Hedwig - fly to and from his window.  Vernon, her husband, had spent a lot of time trying to explain it away as a trick of the eyes, but they were still suspicious._

            Her eyes tore away from the furniture itself, and looked on what was upon them.  When the room had been her son's spare, he put all the books he never read to a place he would not be able to get to easily.  When he was at school last year though, he sold them all to a bookworm so he could buy more sweets.  Now, instead of Classic Literature, there were several textbooks, and each title made her cringe as she read.  The Standard Book of Spells_ (Grades 1-4, all in the same spot), 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi, and Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them were among the many he had.  She was glad his room was at the back of the house; no one would then be able to come in and see this abomination.  She'd be laughed right out of the bloody neighborhood.  Oh, she wouldn't be able to stand what would be said about her then…_

            On an empty shelf, she saw something that looked like a spinning top , two books (Quidditch Through the Ages and Flying With the Cannons), and a bag of Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans.  Horror flashed across her face as she read the label, and she** tried not to look back at the bag.  What she saw next didn't improve her mood.**

On the desk were several scrolls of parchment, two quills, and a bottle of ink.  Apparently, the boy had been working on homework, or writing a letter.  Curiosity overcame her and she picked up the piece of parchment to read it.

It was a letter, and it was to her nephew's Godfather Sirius Black, the mass murderer.  _Why in the world does he have to keep writing to him?  she thought furiously.  __Doesn't he have any respect for us?  She skimmed the letter, which mostly spoke of** things she considered nonsense. Things like apparating, a Goblet of Fire, a Triwizard Tournament Harry had been in, and…**_

…Voldemort.

It was a name she would not soon forget.  Because, it was his fault that she got landed with raising her sister's son, and it was his fault that-  She shook her head, as if to get the image out of her head.  She didn't like to think about it.

            Lastly, on the bed with the old comforter, Petunia saw her sister's son.  Harry Potter was sleeping restlessly in bed.  He was turning and thrashing, as if in a nightmare.  Then, suddenly, all the muscles in his face tensed, and his hands flew to the scar on his forehead.  He seemed to be in so much agony, as if someone was burning it into his head for the first time.  Eyes popping open, he looked around to get his bearings.

            He sighed, and (as Petunia had also felt in his situation) looked glad that it was just a dream.  In spite of this, he still had a lingering fear remaining in his face.  She had no idea why this would be- after all, wasn't it just a dream?

            He then tensed up, seeing his aunt standing in front of him.  Petunia came crashing back to earth, remembering what she came in for.

            "Get out of bed!" she snapped, "I already knocked twice, and you wouldn't get up."  He groped for he glasses and put them on.  "I need you to clean the attic today."

            He muttered an apology, and got groggily out of bed.  She went to leave.

            "And hurry down for breakfast, if you want any.  Otherwise, I'm putting it down the garbage disposal."  With that, she stormed out of the room.  It wasn't until she was in the kitchen that she realized she had forgotten to talk to him about the owl

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

            Her disposition didn't improve as the day went on.  The storm had sent a small branch into a windowpane, and the shattered glass lay in hundreds of fragments over the front door carpet.  Rain had gotten in, and she could already see water damage from her side of the door.

            Something about the storm unnerved her.  Maybe that was why she had been so intrigued (even though it disgusted her) about her nephew's room.  Her mind drifted back to his letter.  She didn't get to read the whole thing- he had woken up while she was skimming it.  Had it not been for the contents of the letter she would not have bothered.

            The nosy part of her personality started to flare up, but so did her pride.  What would her husband think if he found her going through Harry's things?  But no, he was on a work trip for Grunnings, in Kent for the rest of the week.  Her son, who was almost as nosy as herself, was at his best friend Piers' house, and Harry was up in the attic cleaning.

            Throwing down her dishrag, she forced herself to not stomp upstairs (as she often did when she was resolute about something).  Listening intently to make sure her nephew didn't hear what she was doing, she sneaked back into his room.

            The dratted owl cage was still empty.  It wasn't there earlier in the morning, and she hadn't heard it come in.  The letter (which had a great deal more writing on it) was lying out to dry.  So as not to smudge the ink (and give herself away), she sat down at his desk, and began to read.

###############################

Ok, so what did you think?  There are two more chapters after this.  If you like it, review.  If you hated it, review.  Either way, I would love you to review my story and tell me how I did.  I haven't seen too many Aunt Petunia POVs out there, so I wanted to be a bit different.

-Iapetus


	2. A Letter and a Memory

People Like Me

A Harry Potter fan fiction by Iapetus

Disclaimer:  I still don't own Harry Potter.

Again, thank you to Willowish for beta-reading this story before any of you saw it.  I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.  Here is the next!

###############################

_Dear Sirius,_

_            I've been home for a week, and I feel again as though I've been cut-off from the world.  No mail has come in from Ron or Hermione yet; the weather has been nasty around here.  Hedwig would have a hard enough time getting through it, so I don't think Ron will send Pig out anytime soon (he'd be blown off-course)._

_            Pig? thought Petunia with a shudder.  __Can pigs really fly in that world?  She supposed they could, but she didn't like to think of what the neighbors would say if a pot-bellied pig came gliding into her nephew's room.  She had had enough experience with Lily and her son to know that all-sorts of animals were used to deliver the mail (even though the owl was the most commonly-used).  Shaking the mental image out of her head, she read on._

_            How have you and Professor Lupin been doing?  Has he been able to find another job?  We felt bad when he resigned from his teaching position.  He was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher my class ever had at Hogwarts.****_

            Petunia was beginning to get annoyed.  The boy talked of nonsense, things she didn't understand.  She was about to leave the room, furious with herself for even thinking that any of Harry's letters would be worth reading, when she saw the name again.

_            I want to take up a subscription to the Daily Prophet, __but I know it probably won't do any good.  Fudge doesn't want Voldemort's coming back to be public knowledge; he doesn't believe it himself.  I'm guessing that reading the paper for information wouldn't help._

_            Voldemort's back?  Petunia thought, fear coursing through her veins, __I thought Harry had broken his power!  THIS is what she had been fighting against.  But... something didn't seem right.  She left her nephew's desk, and went into her own room._

            Listening again to make sure Harry was still safely cleaning in the attic, she removed a floorboard from her side of the Queen-sized bed.  Inside lay a shoebox, and a photo album.  She pulled out the shoebox, and opened it up carefully.

            Several scrolls of parchment were rolled up.  A green ribbon tied them together, which Petunia now delicately pulled.  The paper's expanded, and several types of handwriting could be seen.

            Leafing through, she found the one that had been concerning her so much.  The handwriting was loopy, but very clear and legible.  It was dated: 31 October, 1990.  _It's going to be 14 years ago this Halloween.  She sat down on her bedside, and reread the letter from so long ago..._

_Dear Mrs. Petunia Dursley,_

_            I regret to inform you that late last night, your sister Lily Potter and her husband James were killed by a dark wizard named Voldemort._

            There the name was again.  Anger began to rise in her heart.  Eyes narrowing, she continued.

_            I am aware of your distrust for the wizarding kind, and your dislike of your sister's choice of living.  However, you are Harry's only living relatives now._

_            Lily had informed me of the Death Eater's attack on your parents.  I__am sure she would have told you that he was a dark wizard, but he was also connected to the one who killed your sister._

            This was nothing new to Petunia.  She had known about the Death Eaters and Voldemort long before this letter had come for her.

* Flashback:  2 May 1990* ****

            The breeze blew gently across the garden, bringing the fragrance of newly bloomed flowers to their noses.  After a cold April, Mr. and Mrs. Evans took advantage of the first warm day of Spring by having tea with their two daughters.

            "Petunia, you are a grown woman.  Don't act so childish," her father reprimanded.  Still fuming, she stiffly nodded, and continued to pour the tea.

            "We're so proud of you, Lily!  I'm just sad that James couldn't come today," her mother smiled.****

            "Well, he had business to do for the Ministry.  They called him last minute," Lily explained.

            _He isn't even here when she tells about her being pregnant, she thought smugly.  __He is slime, like I thought he was.  __Vernon would NEVER do that…_

_            "So, do you know if it is going to be a boy or a girl?" the lady continued, "I can't believe it!  Both of our girls are going to have babies!"  She smiled at the man who was obviously her husband.  "We're going to be grandparents!"_

            Their father put his hand lightly on Lily's stomach.  It was too early in the pregnancy to feel the baby kicking, but he didn't care.  Nothing in the world seemed to matter, except that his younger child was going to be a mother.  Right now, only the pride of a parent for his child shown in his face.****

            "We want to be surprised, but we know what we'll call him/her.  We picked out a boy's and a girl's name.  She smiled inexplicably.  "We've been talking about children for awhile now, and agreed upon it awhile ago."

            "Well, what is it going to be then?" Her father looked at her, hurt.  "You're leading us on!"  He broke into a big smile, but went back to his seat to resume drinking the tea.

            "Well, if it is a girl, we were thinking about Rose- after Great Grandma," she explained.  Her mother looked on her with the highest regard.  One thing she always loved to talk about was her dear Grandmother, and how she was looking forward to being one herself.

            "And, if it's a boy, we want to call him Ha-" she stopped mid-sentence, and stood up quickly.  She had drawn her wand, and pointed behind the table.  Her family members had to turn to see what she was looking at.

            "Lily Potter," a voice spat, "You filthy mudblood, have you decided to return to your kind?" the figure was draped in a black cloak, and none of them could see his face.

            "Don't involve my family in this, Death Eater," she said in a dangerously low voice Petunia had never heard before.

            "Ah, and as much as I would have loved to stay away from this pack of _muggles, the Dark Lord has ordered me to kill you and everyone here."  He raised his wand, and pointed it at their father.  "But you're going to suffer first.**  You're going to pay for the mess you made last week, Potter," **_

            Petunia could see a sense of foreboding on her younger sister's face.  _She knows something- something bad is about to happen...  The two exchanged stern looks.  Petunia could read Lily's face.  She seemed to say, __'There's nothing we can do.' In a desperate attempt to fight back, she tried to pull their father out of the way._

            Too late.

            A beam of iridescent green light made the grass** around it look pale in comparison.  It hit the old man, and with a surprised look on his face, he slumped into his chair.  His breathing stopped instantaneously, as if a body's life was a light, and this man had just blew the circuit breaker.**

            "DAD!" Lily and Petunia shouted, to no avail.

            His wife, now a widower, screamed in horror.  Petunia's mind was unusually clear, and tried to get their mother out of the way as well.  She had no idea what she was up against, but it didn't matter.

            Abomination or not, she knew that her sister and her friends were not evil.  This man, though, was.  

"Daniel, oh Daniel…" their mother murmured, too scared to move.  She seemed like a lead weight (despite being a small lady) to Petunia, who was copying her sister's attempt.  She heard the man mutter some words under his breath, and the same green light shot out again.

            The resistance of her mother fighting to stay with her husband left, and Petunia fell backwards by the sudden lack of force.  It dragged her mother to the ground, and she could only look on with shock.

            "Mum?" she was now near the breaking point.  There was no pulse in her mother's wrist, where she was still holding on.

            Lily, seething with rage, screamed out _"STUPEFY!", and this time a beam of yellow light shot across the lawn.  It hit the man full force, and he sank to the ground._

            _He isn't dead, Petunia already knew, __Lily would never kill someone.  Anyways, they weren't the same words.  But then, she reminded herself, she knew nothing of spells- surely there was more than one way to kill someone with magic._

            _NO! She shouted to herself, __Lily wouldn't do it!  Her suspicions were justified when her younger sister walked over to the man in the crumpled robe, and pulled back his hood and mask._

            "Lucius Malfoy," she said, disgusted.  "I should have known…"  She put the tip of her wand two inches from her mouth and muttered, "_Veo reglae."_

            A second later a wizard appeared out of nowhere.  He had a grim look on his face, but didn't seemed to be surprised at the two elderly people lying dead by the tea table.

            The scene was going in and out of focus.  Petunia could barely see through her tears.

            "Jed, I need you to stay here to meet the other Aurors when they get here.  I have to get my sister out of here," she heard her sister whisper quickly.

            He seemed to want to protest, but nodded.  "Is James coming?"

            The volume seemed to be turned down in Petunia's ear.  It felt as though something in her body had been torn out.  ****

            Lily put her arm on her shoulder, and rubbed slightly.  Kneeling down, she tried to say something, but no words would come out of her mouth.

            Somehow, she was able to find her vocal chords.  "Petunia, we have to get out of here." Both women's bodies were wracked with grief, and Lily now wrapped both arms around her sister into a tight hug.

            The next moment, they were in a room, which Petunia assumed to be her sister's house.  She would have never known - she had never been there before.

            Now, away from that evil man, and away from hellish backyard that had once been a place of fond memories, Lily Potter broke down.  Seeing her sister crumble only intensified her grief.

            It should have been *her* responsibility to take care of the situation, and her younger sister - not the other way around.

            It would have been the best opportunity, in any other circumstance, for her to criticize everything in her sister's house, but she didn't.  Lily was the only one who felt like she did, and she didn't want to fight right now.

* End Flashback *

            After her parent's death, Lily explained everything.  Petunia was no ordinary muggle- she was a sister of one of the most powerful witches in Britain.  Since she had known about the wizarding world (and would never dare tell), she was allowed to have everything explained to her.  Her head still spun when she remembered the conversation, but what really disturbed her was the fact that she was not allowed to tell her husband.  They told her how the most recent murders (her parents included) were going to be explained as the result of a madman's crime spree.  She was to leave it at that.

            Yes, she hated magic, but her contempt for it didn't seem to match that of her husband.  When Harry had been left on their doorstep, he was ready to take him to the orphanage.  She wasn't such a bad sister that she'd abandon her sister's son, and somehow convinced him to let Harry stay.  Her argument had been that they'd raise him as a normal human being who** would never know about the world of his parents.  It was not for the love of the child that motivated her to keep him (she did not love him at all), it was her duty to her sister that kept her going.**

_            Lily died to save her son, and that love invoked an ancient magic, which protected him from the same curse that killed his parents.  Measures have been taken by the Ministry and myself to insure that your family and Harry will be protected by anyone connected with Him.****_

_            Voldemort is not completely dead, but he lacks a body in which to reside.  It will be difficult to regain his powers, but it is not impossible._

            That was the part she had been looking for.  It was the part of the letter she had forgotten.  _So, he could rise again, and he just did.  Anger for her situation, her parents' murders, and her sister's death rose again.  She never showed her affection for her sister - ever.  She hated magic, and everything that had come with her sister's acceptance letter._

_            Mum and Dad were always proud of her, she thought bitterly.  __I'd get full marks on everything, and they'd still go on about how their "little girl" was a witch.  _

_            They'd always like her gifts more.  The year she gave us wizarding sweets, Dad was overjoyed with his Chocolate Frogs.  Mum loved the sugar quills.  She gave me a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.  The memory still brought a great deal of grief to her.  She had bitten into a bogie-flavored one, and then never trusted any of the food her sister gave her again._

            This** was no time to be bitter.  She knew what she had to do, if she was to calm her fears at all.  But, if she was to pull it off, even her nephew couldn't know what she was doing.**

            Hiding her letters in the floorboard again, she went downstairs to her writing desk.  The insides reflected the cleanliness of the outside, not a thing out of its place.  She found her white and gold stationary - the one her sister had given to her for the last birthday she saw - and pulled out a sheet.  Pulling out her ballpoint pen, she began to write.

            It was the letter that would condemn her to shame, if anyone else would ever find out-

            - The letter that risked a response (that she was sure her husband would tear up)-

            - The letter that questioned all of her morals and beliefs-

            - The letter that would forbid her the excuse of ignorance (if answered)-

            - Yet, it was the letter that needed to be written.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore..._

###############################

I need all the support I can get.  Do you like this story?  If so, review!  The next chapter is the last.

-Iapetus


	3. The Bitter taste of Pride

People Like Me 

A Harry Potter fan fiction by Iapetus

Disclaimer:  I'm not British, so how could I have written the British story Harry Potter?

Lastly, thank you (again) to Willowish for looking over my story.  (By the way, I forgot to mention this before… This was beta-read from a member of the Sugarquill.  Stop by there sometime, it's a lot of fun!)

###############################

            After messing up the first time, Petunia decided to go to notebook paper.  She'd write a rough draft, and then transfer it to the fancy stationary given to her as a gift.  Right now, when no one else was around, her wall of pride had been broken down.  She wanted answers, and knew she wasn't going to get them by being rude to the man who could answer her.

            Some nights, while getting ready for bed, she could hear her nephew talking to his pet owl.  He had talked about his school Headmaster a lot, and how wise the man was.  Harry wasn't the only person to hold the man in high regard.

            In Lily's second year, there had been a scandal involving the funds for a reward she and several other people had won.  The Elite Academic Grade Level Education (EAGLE) Scholarship had been opened to Muggle-born students with exceptional grades and/or financial need.  The Ministry had cut off the money for the program, and the Headmaster had fought hard to get it reinstated.  It was a time in their family's life when they could barely put Petunia through school, much less the younger daughter with all the special (and expensive) wizarding supplies needed.  If the award had not have been given to her, Lily would have not been able to return to Hogwarts.  His action had won the total confidence of her parents, as well as the gratitude of Lily.

            And then, there was that giant that had taken Harry to get his supplies in the first place.  She had seen some of the letters from him around her nephew's room.  Hagrid seemed to think that he was the best man in the world, and had given her son a tail when Vernon had insulted the Headmaster in his presence.  _To win the respect of a person the size of a giant, she thought, __he must have been an agreeable man._

            Several crumpled pieces of paper lied on the floor.  She had stopped using her best pen, when she realized that a rough draft was needed.  The pencil was becoming dull again, and she would need to sharpen it soon.  It was hard to read the writing- her hand was trembling so much.

            _I have to get this done, before anyone comes home! She thought, her mind on the edge of panic.  Holding up her most recent attempt, she examined it with her narrow eyes:_

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_            You and I have never met, but I know we both know of each other.  I am Petunia Dursley, Harry Potter's aunt and his mother's sister.  I hope you are doing well._

_            From what I have remembered hearing from my sister, the statements that Harry and others have made, and the letter you sent me so long ago, I know you are thought highly of.  I also have heard you were a man of remarkable wisdom, and of knowledge._

_            I happened to come across some news that the man known as Voldemort had risen.  You stated in the letter with Harry that he was the man responsible for killing my family.  Sir, I won't hide the fact that this has disturbed me greatly._

_            When Vernon and I originally took the boy in, we vowed to stomp the magic out of him.  For him, it was because he couldn't stand the idea of having a wizard in the house.  For me, (while I agreed with him) it was to keep him from the evil that had taken away our family.  I do not like the boy, but I also don't believe that anyone should have to suffer like that.  I know what it's like to have your parents murdered..._

_            Petunia had to stop for a moment.  Tears were welling up in her eyes again.  __I can't be doing this when I write the final draft, she thought.  Grabbing a tissue, she touched the corners of her eyes, removing the moisture.  Regaining composure, she continued to read._

            _I was hoping you'd be able to tell me what I am supposed to do.  I do not know how to do magic (obviously), and don't know how to protect Harry - should He come back.  I also want to protect my family.  When Voldemort sent a Death Eater to my family, he had planned to kill me as well as my parents before he killed Lily.  Sir, our relationship was not that of close sisters, but as ones who tolerated each other's presence.  We still loved each other, though.  She did not deserve to die._

_            Please write me back promptly, if you are not too busy.  I'm sure running the school must take up a good deal of time, even in these summer months.  And, to evade the curiosity of my husband and son, is it possible that your response come through regular mail?  Or, could the owl drop it off in our slot?  I don't think my family would enjoy seeing me receive mail the wizarding way._

_Thank you for your time._

_            Sincerely,_

_            Petunia Dursley_

            It was the last line, but something was missing.  She sat in her chair, pondering what it was, when her nephew came walking down the stairs.

            In a rush for him not to see what she was doing, she picked up all the scrap paper in a handful, and threw it in the trashcan.  She was just folding the letter into thirds when his feet touched the landing.

            "Aunt Petunia?" he asked patiently, waiting for her to turn her attention to him.

            "What?" she snapped back in response.

            "I'm done cleaning the attic."

            She turned to look at him, sneering the whole time.  Dust caped the too-big clothes he was wearing, and his glasses were cracked.  

            "Did you break anything?" she asked, perceptively.

            "No," Harry responded quickly, "I caught it in time."

            She gave him a once-over.  "Good.  Be careful next time.  There are a lot of important family mementos up there.  I don't want to loose any by a trouble-making boy like you.

            "Now, go wash up.  There is some tuna fish you can have in the fridge," she smiled at him nastily.  "After that, I want you to clean up the glass on the floor by the entranceway."  He turned to go to the downstairs bathroom.  _Good, she thought, __then I can get upstairs without him hearing much of anything.  He was almost out of view, but she shouted after him.  "If there is ONE shard left in the carpet, you'll have no meals for a week!"  Well, she couldn't have her poor Dudders cutting himself on one, could she?_

            Satisfied by lack of response, she hurried upstairs quickly with the envelope in her hands.  She could still hear the water running as she crept into his room.

            Petunia must have seen her sister do it a hundred times when they were children.  Always writing to James, or one of his friends.  Either that, or Danette, Cindy, or Janet - her dorm mates.  You always tied the letter you wanted to send to someone to the leg of an owl.  Then, they'd take off and deliver it for you.  It had to be simple, right? 

            Wrong.

            At first, it wasn't even there.  Then, it flew in - appearing out of nowhere.  She had two letters tied to her legs.

            Petunia didn't know how long Harry would be before he came up to his room again.  Working quickly, she tried to take the two letters off, but the bird wouldn't let her.  The owl Hedwig had never seemed to like her, and convincing that she had good intentions was even more difficult.  It took every fiber in her body not to start screaming at the animal, which would surely not let her mail the letter then.  With a desperate attempt, she threw away the last of (what she considered) her dignity.

            She asked it politely.

            "Will you send this to Professor Dumbledore?" the owl seemed to eye her warily, not knowing whether to trust the change-of-heart.  Petunia was getting desperate.

            "Please!" she whispered panic evident in her voice.**  "It has to do with Harry's safety!"**

            She had said the magic words.  Hedwig gave an assuring hoot, and held her free leg out to her master's aunt.  Taking the small piece of ribbon from the inside of her apron, she tied it securely to owl's leg.  Without another moment's notice, she took off into the sky.

            From what she had heard, she knew that Dumbledore would have enough sense not to tell Harry about her letter.  This was a relief, because, she now realized, she had a reason for acting like she did.

            _You know, she thought finally, __you're just like Lily.  She smiled.  __The reason you are such a nice person is because you had to put up with people like me._

Fin.

###############################

Wow.. I was so surprised!  I got almost as many reviews for the first two chapters as another story I have (which has 14 chapters).  Thank you to EVERYONE who commented.  This was my first Harry Potter piece, and I'm glad people enjoyed it.

This story has ended, but I already have ideas for more.  Are any of you interested in seeing more of my work?  If so, respond in your review (hint hint), and I'll e-mail you all when I finish.  It shouldn't be too long from then.

-Iapetus


End file.
